Local man, Martin Shuttlecock today reported that he has had a very bad day - as his football team didn't quite get the results they required, and that his anarchic attempts to subvert a popular satirical website have failed dismally.
"They weren't fooled for a moment, them flipping Spoofeteers," Shuttlecock lamented. "So I thought I'd concentrate on the footie instead. That was a disaster. I learnt one thing out of it though - never trust a Geordie to do a man's job. They're good at ram raiding, but that's about as far as it goes."
As Shuttlecock became increasingly agitated watching Newcastle United go down 2-0 to Manchester City, long suffering wife, Anne, busied herself in the kitchen preparing a roast chicken Sunday dinner.
"I thought it might take his mind off the football," Anne explained.
Sadly, that wasn't the case. Shuttlecock belched, farted and spluttered his way through two football matches, before repeatedly banging his head against a doorframe and shouting loudly for his dinner.
"I almost slapped him," Anne told reporters. "I know he was a bit fed up because City won at Newcastle, just like they did back in 1968, as he never tires of yacking on about, but I wasn't standing for the daft lump getting all leery and demanding his dinner. So I had a quiet word in his ear, and he soon calmed down. The silly sod knows when he's going too far. At least he had the sense to back off. I mean, nobody really enjoys being brutally maimed, do they?"
Eventually, dinner was served - and it's at this point that Shuttlecock encountered the world's hardest roast potato.
"It didn't even flinch when I tried to stick me fork in it," Shuttlecock explained. "It just sat there on me plate acting all hard and defiant and that. So I tried to proper stab it up with me fork - but it just sat there acting like it wasn't all that bothered. Anyway, I love playing mind games with spuds, me. So what I did was, I ate all the rest of me dinner, and then I come back to this dead hard spud. I tried stabbin' it again - nowt, no reaction - so I done a proper Jack The Ripper style frenzied fork attack on it, hacking away and all that. I got the better of the bleeder in the end, although it did take a serious twatting by way of a hammer and a wood chisel. Turned out quite tasty in the end. Thank you very muchly!"
"Think nothing of it dear," Anne said in closing. "For I certainly don't. Tosser..."
More as we get it.